


Don't Look Back

by tooruspinkytoe



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Don't let the tags scare you everything will be ok, Fluff, M/M, Red String of Fate, Romance, Second Chances, Suicide, Temporary Character Death, Time Travel, Took away the major character death tag because it's only for two chapters, yes there's fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:34:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24573880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tooruspinkytoe/pseuds/tooruspinkytoe
Summary: He used to be the moon to Tooru's sun, stuck in Tooru’s orbit for as long as he could remember. But for a while now, longer than he wants to admit, Hajime’s been floating through space on his own.
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 22





	Don't Look Back

**Author's Note:**

> The title is based on this song, which is also relevant to the mood of the story.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M1mBr7D8CJY

[January 28th, 2020]  
  


Hajime feels a little guilty forwarding Tooru’s call to voicemail, especially when they haven’t talked properly in months, but he’s using his phone to follow a recipe his mom sent him and he’s limited on time. His girlfriend, Michiko, will be here within the next two hours and though the nikuman and curry rice are almost finished, he still needs to change his clothes, straighten up, and set the table. He looks at the clock on the stove and exhales, trying to calm his nerves.

Tonight is the night he’s going to propose to Michiko and he wants it to be perfect.

A small smile creeps up onto Hajime’s face and he looks over to some of the photos pinned to his fridge.

There’s one of him and Michiko posing like Vogue models in front of a massive waterfall, their cheeks flushed from the sweltering August heat. Michiko does actually look like a model there, with her long brown hair, long legs, and dimpled smile. There’s another photo below that one, a polaroid Hanamaki took of them during a New Year’s Eve party in the U.S. Michiko’s in the middle of planting a big kiss on Hajime’s cheek while Matsukawa holds up a beer in the background. Tooru is also in the shot, but he’s more focused on his phone than the camera.

Hajime’s eyes travel to another photo of him, Tooru, and Michiko at a strawberry farm in Osaka. Michiko’s collecting strawberries to the left while Tooru holds a huge one up to the camera, his brown eyes round in amazement. The strawberry’s shape is similar to a UFO and Hajime can almost hear his best friend’s exclamation of _“Iwa-chan, it’s a message for me! From aliens! What do you think they’re trying to say?”_

A long vibration from his phone brings him back to the present. It’s Tooru again.

Hajime forwards the call a second time, cursing under his breath when he realizes he doesn’t have much time left. He checks on the food again and then sweeps through his apartment to tidy up. He’s a relatively clean guy, so it doesn’t take long. His phone vibrates twice on the way to his bedroom to change, a text message from Michiko coming in at the same time as a text from Tooru. He opens Michiko’s text first.

 **[Michiko]:** Meeting ended early. I’ll be home in less than 30 minutes! See you soon, babe!

“Shit,” Hajime groans, rushing to his closet to pick through his clothing.

There’s another text from Tooru and Hajime finally takes a look after slipping on a comfortable pair of jeans and one of his newer plain, long-sleeved shirts. He rushes back to the dining room to set the table.

 **[Shittykawa]:** do u remember when we first met?

Hajime pauses, brows furrowing in confusion. Of course he remembers.

 **[Shittykawa]:** i thought u would punch me when i accidentally knocked over ur bug jar so i started crying right away. but instead of hitting me u looked so shocked and u took my hand and told me it was ok. u said u could just get more bugs and then u invited me to get them with u. then we became best friends. ive been thinking about that day a lot lately.

There’s something about the text that unsettles Hajime, but he’s not sure what it is. He thinks about what to say in response while he grabs some plates and after a moment, decides to call Tooru instead.

“Iwa-chan,” Tooru’s greeting is subdued. “You called back.”

“Yeah. Sorry I didn’t pick up earlier, I was busy,” Hajime apologizes.

“Ah. It’s alright,” Tooru is quieter than normal; reserved.

There’s a train station announcement droning on in the background and Hajime wonders where he’s on his way to this late on a week night. He wants to ask, but it doesn’t feel right. It used to be so easy to talk to Tooru.

Back in high school, Hajime prided himself in how easy it was to read his best friend. After years of them being inseparable, he could pick up on the other’s mood just by being near him. His classmates would tease him all the time, saying he was the moon to Tooru’s sun. He’d tell them to shut up, but he never denied it because there was an undeniable truth to their words. He’d been stuck in Tooru’s orbit for as long as he could remember. But for a while now, longer than he wants to admit, Hajime’s been floating through space on his own. 

“Are you okay, Oikawa?”

Tooru doesn’t answer right away. In fact, he keeps silent for so long that Hajime would think he’d hung up if not for the background noise of the subway station. Then there’s a slow, shuddering breath.

“No, I don’t think I am.”

Hajime’s whole body tenses up.

He’s suddenly reminded of an eleven-year-old Tooru sitting calmly in the front row of his own mother’s funeral, back straight and hands folded in his lap as if attending a tea ceremony. His eyes had been perfectly dry, while his father and sister cried beside him. He hadn’t reacted to anything the entire service; not the speeches, not the hugs from his relatives, not his sister squeezing his hand and sobbing. It wasn’t until he was back in his bedroom, with Hajime close behind, that his mask finally slipped. He’d let out the most horrible sound Hajime had ever heard, like a dying animal, before crossing his room to tear down the posters above his bed and rip the curtains from his windows. He’d ripped and yanked and threw and kicked anything and everything he could get his hands on, until his room was filled with nothing but destruction and the echo of his ugly sobs.

Hajime inhales deeply.

“Oikawa,” he says, worried. “I know we’re not as close anymore, but I’m always here if you need me.”

“But you’re _not_ ,” Tooru is quick to reply, voice trembling. “I’ve needed you for years, Iwa-chan! We aren’t close anymore because _you_ always ignore my texts and calls! _You_ always cancel our plans! You’ve even forgotten our visits to Mom’s grave!”

The pain Hajime feels unfurling in his chest is unlike anything he’s ever felt before. It’s like a chasm opens up inside of him, splitting his ribs and crushing his lungs. Tooru must realize the effect of his words because he quickly whispers a multitude of apologies and sucks in a breath, like he’s trying to reel in his emotions.

“I’m so sorry,” Tooru whispers again. “Iwa-chan. _Hajime._ Please forgive me, I’m sorry. I’m sorry _._ ”

Hajime swallows down the lump in his throat, opens his mouth to speak, swallows again. He doesn’t know why Tooru’s apologizing. Hajime’s hurt, but he’s sure it’s nothing compared to what Tooru’s been feeling all these years. Alone.

“Hey,” Tooru tries again, still so unnervingly quiet. “Tell me something that’ll make me smile?”

At that, Hajime feels some of the pressure in his chest ease up. It doesn’t go away completely, but it becomes more manageable. ‘Tell me something that’ll make me smile’ has always been Tooru’s way of offering an olive branch and Hajime desperately wants to reach out and take it. When Tooru’s mom had still been alive, she would always say she could see the red string of fate connecting their ring fingers. She’d say it would float between them like a spider’s thread, loose but strong, a sign of love and unwavering trust. Now, even though Hajime knows she’d meant it metaphorically, he can almost feel the string being pulled so taut that it’s about to snap.

“Yeah,” he croaks. “I didn’t tell anyone about this because I was nervous, but I’m going to propose to Michiko tonight. If she says yes… will you be my best man?”

Hajime expects a joke or two about Michiko being out of his league, which he’s become used to by now, but what he does not expect is Tooru’s small laugh to sound so completely joyless. The pressure returns to his chest, suffocating him. He’s fucked up. He doesn’t know how, but he’s fucked up.

“Oikawa—”

“Mimi-chi will make such a pretty bride,” Tooru croons, but it’s all wrong.

“ _Tooru_ —” Hajime tries again, desperate.

“I’m sorry, Iwa-chan, but I have to go,” Tooru interrupts. “I didn’t really expect you to return my call and if I’m being honest,” he inhales sharply, “I wish you hadn’t.”

Hajime feels the words like a slap to the face.

“I didn’t want it to be like this,” Tooru continues, resigned. “You weren’t supposed to call back. I just wanted you to see my text, so you would know that no matter what, no matter how far apart we’d become, I still loved you. Please remember that always.”

Hajime doesn’t understand why this feels like a good-bye.

He suddenly feels the string connecting them together pull tighter and tighter until it snaps.

“My strong, dependable ace,” Tooru says, but it’s hollow.

And then he ends the call.

Hajime doesn’t know how long he stands there in his dining room, hip pressed against the table and his phone still pressed to his ear, a sense of overwhelming dread churning in his gut. His mind is screaming ‘what’s happening what’s happening what’s happening’ until he’s forcefully pulled out of his panic by Michiko calling him. He stares at the incoming call, at the picture of Michiko’s heart-shaped sunglasses and brilliant smile, and then at the time just above it.

Almost twenty minutes have passed since the end of his conversation with Tooru. Hajime finally notices the smell of his dinner burning and he pulls himself together enough to turn off the stove and answer his phone.

“Hey,” Hajime chokes out.

“I’m going to be late,” Michiko says immediately, her voice sounding far away. “I’m not sure what happened, but none of the trains are moving and no one has given a time-frame for when they’ll start up again.”

Hajime heads to the living room to turn on the news, his thoughts not on the fact that his proposal is going to be ruined, but on the fact that something is obviously wrong with Tooru and he doesn’t know what it is. He hadn’t asked, hadn’t even tried to figure it out. Things had turned sour and he’d taken Tooru’s offer of peace like a coward, not bothering to push to get Tooru to talk. That’s what high school Hajime would’ve done, because high school Hajime knew his friend better than anyone. He knew Tooru hid everything behind layers and layers of lies and misdirection, and the only way to pry out the truth was to push until he caved.

He hadn’t pushed and the regret was eating away at him.

“I’m checking the news now,” Hajime says, trying to sound normal.

“You’re the best,” Michiko laughs. “I’m stuck in the Iidabashi station so my reception isn’t fantastic. I’m trying to get out onto the main street, but there are so many people packed in here.”

Hajime is hardly listening, focused on the line of text scrolling across the bottom of NHK News. It takes a few moments until the reason for the train delay finally comes up.

“It was a suicide,” he tells her, his entire body going cold with dread.

“Oh my god, really?” Michiko gasps. “That’s so awful.”

She’s still talking, her voice softening as she offers a prayer, but Hajime can barely hear her.

More text continues across the bottom of the screen and everything in Hajime’s body freezes. His breath studders to a halt in his lungs.

‘Eye witnesses claim it was the retired captain of Japan’s national volleyball team, Oikawa Tooru, that jumped in front of the bullet train at the Ochanomizu station. A phone recording by a fan has been released to the authorities and…’

Hajime can’t breathe.

“Oikawa,” he wheezes, his eyes blurring with tears.

Michiko knows what he’s trying to say.

“Oh, Hajime, no—" 

Hajime hangs up, then dials Tooru’s number. It goes straight to voicemail. He hangs up and tries again, and again, and again until his hands start to shake so badly he can’t do anything other than let his phone fall to the floor. His knees follow right after and he bends forward until his forehead is pressed into the carpet, his fingers clutching at his throat as he sobs.

Between broken cries and gasps for air, Hajime never once stops calling Tooru’s name.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to hear what you think so far, so comments are much appreciated!! Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
